Intern's Log

Watch out for a blog page about life as a Junior Intern a.k.a. the lowest life-form in the hierarchy that is MEDICINE.

Onward to Junior Internship!

Deep reflections: on leaving Med and pursuing the different road

Moments ago, a friend of mine decided that she will quit from studying Medicine. It was a tough semester for everybody, especially for her. I deeply wondered how a wunderkind who had such a strong work ethic eventually surrendered the long haul. That decision of hers made me think very deeply on how I felt about what she did. The pressure was just very great, so it seems, for her to decide to quit. But nonetheless, I thought at first that it was kinda unnecessary for her to do that, given that she has high grades and a passion for learning.

I was unconsciously getting a grip of myself as I learned of her decision. She said it was final, and it was just sad for me to know about it firsthand. I was starting to feel the sadness inside, that I was about to lose a close confidant, where I found comfort and happiness despite living inside the hellhole that was really keen on consuming my sanity.

Weeks have passed since we talked about this. I persuaded her to think about what she was planning to do. I convinced her to take the road less traveled even if it meant sacrificing mind and body just to achieve such purpose. I belted out almost all of the persuasion tactics I knew of just for her to reconsider. It was a big effort for me, to go and push her to continue on with studying. I always knew that she had it in her, that she can do things that would make even the most hardworking student green with envy. I couldn't accept the fact that she wanted to quit. She was really adamant about her decision to surrender. The good thing was, she eventually decided to move on and continue on with it. I thought it would be the end of painstaking convincing, but now I guess I was wrong.

For the first time, someone close to me has decided to leave the dream only a blessed few would even dare to take, a dream that she used to share to me even before she entered the halls of Med school. I understand how her pain felt, because I also went through that same ordeal years ago. Now that I'm sitting on my study table and making this blog, her decision has made me reflect deeply on my situation in Med school. Her eventual decision to quit made me rethink about how my life in Medicine has been. Sure, that my life inside Med was tough, that it had its ups and downs. But, the question is: am I really happy with this? Am I happy with some classmates hating me and some classmates liking me? Am I happy interviewing patients from time to time? Am I happy making paperworks and study every evening until my brain cells deplete to zero? Am I happy that I get to pass my subjects? Am I even happy being inside Medical school?

These are the questions that are now reentering my mind. I've been through these questions before, but why of all things would these questions visit me again, when I'm already a few months away from Junior Internship? It's hard for me to reflect on these, but as the minutes linger, these voids are slightly devouring me up to the point my emotions and thinking start to run empty. 

A while ago, I started looking at websites of flying schools. My dream of becoming a pilot was slowly creeping back into me. I began considering skipping JI-ship, enter flying school and maybe try it out for a change. My mind was even thinking about entering flying school after finishing JI-ship, without the possibility of taking Senior Internship or even the Physician Board Exam. My passion of flight and flying was slowly coming back. It was a dream I have already shared to my parents, but my Mom wouldn't let me because of its risks. Other than flying, my mind was slowly entering a void of uncertainty: a mindset that was making me feel empty and sad, just like how it felt when I was considering quitting Medicine back 2009.

I know Medicine is hard, and that enduring this course really entails the full potential of the mind, body and spirit. But, it is true that sometimes, we should just know when to give up. It is not forever that we can continue on not being ourselves. Most Med students would say they want to be doctors, but along the way, a few would quit. It is not because that they are weak, but because they do not see themselves as doctors anyway. If one seems to surrender despite all the painstaking efforts to continue, then there is nothing wrong in taking a different path. There will be people who will think that quitting Medicine is a stupid thing to do, but one thing I've realized is that if one is not happy in what he/she does, then why continue on? It will be sad for me to see her leave, but there will always a tinge of happiness deep inside because she will be able to follow what really interests her. In the end, doing things that we can't see ourselves to be in the future is like wearing a shirt that isn't your size. It is the pursuit of the inside passion that is important to follow. One should not force himself/herself into something he/she is not. Live life and be free, and wherever God will take you, for sure He will take care of the rest.

Strongest: weird, introverted, but still cool

Think of this: you're someone who is very introverted. You don't talk that much to other people, stutter a lot, become clumsy at times, and would either go alone or go with a bunch of people. You also try your luck in PC games, but to somewhat no avail or little improvement, if any. You're also this type of person who would come to class with a gadget and would have a knack for a sleep-wake cycle within lectures. Because of your unique personality, you gain haters and friends. Haters who hate you because you're "special," and friends who accept you for who you really are. Despite this kind of behavior, deep inside, you have a wonderful mind filled with creative ideas that you can only express online. Despite all of this, you are a very hardworking person who knows how to dedicate work to the highest level.

Think about it.

This is about a classmate of mine, a friend and a group mate who I've been with since day 1 of Med school. Name withheld, but for sure any reader who's a classmate of mine will have the biggest idea on who this person is based on my seemingly obvious description above. Personally, with no sugarcoating, he is a weird guy with a kinda weird demeanor. Some people, especially those who know him well, would diss him because of his personality. Despite this, only a few accept him for who he really is. He is considered within our circle as a person who should be loved and treated like any ordinary human being. Sometimes, I admit, I kinda bully the guy, but I personally like him because of his real deal, no shit dedication to any work that is being given to him.

I met him back during stress management session, when we were all strangers to each other. The moment I saw him, from the way he stood up, the way he looks, and up to the way he talks, I knew that this guy is not any ordinary person. I saw him as someone who is "special": not the mentally retarded-type ones, but as a person who looks endowed with a potential to bring color to a class of people with different origins. When I first talked to him, I could barely understand a word he was saying because he kept on stuttering. But as time passed by, I started to get used to his stuttering way of communicating. I understand he has this stuttering problem, but nonetheless, he can still communicate. I was with him when we were with our 1st clique. We hung on there until the day I left the old gang because my old friends started to become distant. He was left all alone there, trying to struggle and keep up with what he had back then. I felt bad for him because despite the barrage of bad words against his clumsiness and his weird ways, he never seemed to fight back. He took all of the blows in stride. Define STRONGEST, and I'm dead sure that all of the synonymous words of languages around the world all point to him. With a new set of friends, he seems so comfortable being with the new gang. He found solace in playing PC games (despite his slow progress for improvement), in hanging out with people who really know how to have fun based on his preferences, and in being accepted for who he really is. 

In terms of communicating, he seems not to be the extroverted type. He's active in the online realm: he posts announcements more like any active member in our class. His activeness online is the almost entire opposite of him in the real world. He seems kinda distant to others, but not to the present gang who took him and treated him like a man deserving of respect. His dedication to work is also unparalleled. Give him something to do, and he will not hesitate to work on it. Because of this, I knew that what our classmates see everyday is only a shell of the man he really is. Only a few can notice his importance and worth, and because of this, our friends agreed upon protecting him from any hater that would pose a threat to him.

I posted this blog about him not because I'm bored, but because I just wanted to show to you, the reader, how cool this person is. His being a weird dude doesn't mean people can treat him like shit. His not being able to defend himself doesn't mean people can just diss him and make fun of him. I may be one of those pricks who would sometimes diss him, but despite that, I still accept him for who he is. I would get reprimanded by one of our friends because of that. Haha. Nonetheless, this person who I'm pertaining to has a very beautiful heart and mind that only a few can see: only those with pure hearts who know kindness more than hatred.

To those who still mock him for his shortcomings, I just appeal that instead of making fun of the person and putting out a mischievous smile behind his back whenever he'd say something that would maybe be weird, let's just remind him of his mistakes in a straightforward way. Like what some of us would do (especially me), if he would commit a mistake, we would tell him that he did a mistake and that he should not do it again. But despite that, what is important is acceptance. People should just accept him as to who he is, not mock him and shit. If moralists taught us to love the mentally-challenged ones, why can't we love a person who is just plain introverted, definitely not schizoid, but nonetheless game for anything that is given to him? This goes all to those who have been bad to him, especially the ones who have know him very well. We can say jokes about him, but not mock him entirely, strip him of his humanity and make him feel so down and degraded. He's a human being, just like the rest of us.

What if we have children who are born just like him, what would you feel if your child's classmate would treat your child like a douchebag?

This is dedicated to you buddy, just in case you get to read this. I'm sorry if I was such a prick towards you. I was just like that because I just want you to improve and become a better man. I made this into a blog so that not only the people who know you would get to read this, but also the entire world who can maybe relate to what you have and what you are experiencing as of this present.

How I wish I can post a picture, but this blog goes out to the public eye as well. Kaya wag muna. Haha!

You deserve a blog that the whole world should read.

Words of wisdom for this: Let's love each other like how God taught us to love Him. Love God and your neighbor. It may not be a common fact, but it sure is a general rule.

Medicine: 2 1/2 years later

It has been a while since I last blogged about how life in Med school was. Because of the tight schedules we have been experiencing in 3rd year, the time that has been spent on using the computer for blogging has been overshadowed by the tons of paper work, reading, and other academic priorities.

It has been already one semester (actually, 3 days to go before the end of the sem) and it feels like time has flown so fast. It felt like it was just yesterday when we returned to the halls of our school (now on a revamped look) and hurdle another year in Med school. It felt like it was months since we endured 2nd year, and it felt like almost a year since we narrowly passed 1st year. 

Looking back and comparing 3rd year with the past 2 years, this year has been the most mentally toxic of all the year levels. It's true what our preceptor back in 2nd year said: that 2nd year was the easiest. I guess she's right: 2nd year was the easiest, but only the easiest in terms of the schedule and light workload. Back then, we had more time for ourselves, though in 1st year we had the most time because of the few subjects that we took during those times. It is in 3rd year where we soon found out that the demands of academics and clinical work were somewhat overwhelming. 

Entering 3rd year was like adding another weight to the already heavy load students have been carrying since the 1st day we entered Med. Third year, the year before Junior Internship, required us to become more adept into the clinical analysis and application of what we have learned from the 2 years in school. I personally admit that not all of what I learned from 1st to 2nd year came back immediately whenever we had preceptor sessions, but they slowly reappeared and were put into good use as time passed. Despite that lofty advantage, there has been a lot of difficulty in terms of meeting the demands of clinicians and professors. In 3rd year, we are required to think and act like doctors: we interview patients, examine them, and later on form a diagnosis from the findings. Not only that, we were made to submit paper works every week for each patient we checked up on. We have 3 to 4 preceptor sessions, and each session required us to submit a paper case per week. It's like working 3 to 4 papers weekly on top of the interviewing and examining of patients. It is a definitely heavy load for junior Med students. At first, the rigors of it were too overwhelming. The time spent on adjusting to the demands of clinical practice made us get used to these rigorous tasks. Truth be told, because of the loads of paper works, patient interactions, and lectures with exams, time really flew so fast. We thought that life would be so slow in 3rd year. Turns out, it kinda wasn't.

What's new in UERM is that the school has made quite a face lift of their classrooms. Five new classrooms were added to accommodate new and old students. The classrooms are quite nice: they have movie house seats, cozy atmosphere, and an environment that is really conducive to studying or sleeping (pick one). We have a new Skills Laboratory, which replaced the old rooms of the 2nd floor of the JMC building, which is really nice and clean-looking. In terms of student population, the 1st year batch was divided into 3 sections because of the enormous number of students who wish to try their luck in passing 1st year. Also new to the mix is the requirement of some classes to have an arranged seating for students, and a mandatory attendance sheet for strict monitoring of who's attending and who's not. It wasn't like that in the past. It just happened that most students tend not to attend lectures, that's why they made attendance mandatory. There's nothing wrong with it, as long as this is included in the grading system of the student. 

Much as I want to say more to this, I just feel sleepy right now. It has been a long week for me because of the exams, and my mind is still exhausted from all the studying and mentally preparing for this past week.

It'll be a few more months before we become Junior Interns. I just hope that the remaining months would be so gentle to us so that we can be one step nearer to become the future doctors we have been molding to become.

Acceptance is the key to freedom

Have you ever tried living in a fantasy that you wished to be real? Have you put yourself in a position that you would dedicate your time and effort for something or someone just to make yourself sane and happy?

Happiness knows no bounds: it is a testimony of human existence. There are a lot of things that makes a person happy: money, career, objects, friends, loved ones. We all think that we can have these things forever. We wish it was so. The truth is, if there is happiness, there will always be sadness behind it.

A while ago, I was slapped back to the reality of things. I thought that the future will turn out great. Turns out, it didn't. It was something that I had to inadvertently accept because it seemed like I had no other choice. 

It was wishful thinking, though. It was fun while it lasted. Thoughts rushed into my mind as to whether I should deny it or accept it. As of now, it is a tough decision to take. Denying the fact of having differences and just pretending it wasn't there was like unconsciously stabbing yourself multiple times without feeling it, and when the pain starts to seep in, it would be totally unbearable. Accepting the fact of having differences would open a lot of doors for opportunities, but it would be for a hefty price. 

I never realized that what I thought was getting better was snapped off just like that. I was like woken up from a dream that lasted for months. It was like how a happily ever after turned out to be just a literal dream: a moment where you would inevitably wake up from after a few hours of enjoyment. It was like rising up with a bad headache, a brain fog that was just too painful to bear. 

In short, it just had to suck.

I cannot deny the fact that I am disappointed about what had transpired. I am still hopeful for things to become much better. I do not wish to rush into things that I know might end up in despair. It was a matter of accepting something that has been laid on the table.

It's just knowing your limits and setting it, and learning how to control yourself and contain what needs to be contained.

It's just accepting something for what it is.

Acceptance is the key to freedom. It opens a lot of opportunities to take. It's like carpe diem everyday. It may be hard, but it takes adjustment to accept facts.

If there is no freedom, then there will never be happiness.

The attempt at quitting medicine: the letter of withdrawal

Ever felt that you wanted to surrender, despite only being on the road to success for less than a week? Did you ever feel envious of your batch mates who were earning cash, having long vacations, or doing job huntings? Did you even see yourself not being the person who you really want to be?

A while ago, I scoured through the documents file of our family PC. As I was looking for an authorization letter for family business matters, I stumbled upon a letter which I made way back 1st year.

And this is just not any ordinary letter.

It is not an LOA (Leave of Absence) letter.

It is a letter of Withdrawal.

June 19, 2009

ALFARETTA LUISA T. REYES, M.D.

Dean, College of Medicine

University of the East Ramon Magsaysay Memorial Medical Center

Quezon City

Dear Madam,

I am currently a 1^st year Medicine Student this school-year 2009-2010. Unfortunately, it brings me with a heavy heart that I am filing my Withdrawal from the College.

I graduated from BS Nursing last April of 2009, and recently, I took the Nurses Licensure Examination.. For 4 straight years, including the summer breaks and the 2 months of review prior to the Licensure Examination, I have been immersing myself on the study table, fervently and wholeheartedly studying my lessons in order for me to obtain a degree and, hopefully, a license. Though I had only a week’s rest, my mind was raring for me to enter the doors of medicine. Upon entry into the medical school, I found myself overwhelmed with the subjects and topics to be studied. My mind wants to continue on studying, but my heart and body was giving up on me. And as the days passed, my zest for studying has been slowly fading away. I did not want this to happen, but I believe that my capabilities have exceeded the limit, and that my mind, heart and body deserve a much needed rest from all the books and paperwork for now.

It was my childhood dream to become a very good doctor someday, and everyone, including me, believed in my capabilities to achieve and someday become successful in the medical field. But, now, I realized that I have found what my heart truly desires: to be a successful nurse, and hopefully, a nurse educator.

With this, I am officially filing my Withdrawal from the College effective today. I would like to thank you and the whole university for giving me this very honorable opportunity to enter the medical profession. If ever I return again to your college, I sincerely hope that the doors of the college of medicine will still be open for me.

Thank you for this wonderful experience.

Respectfully yours,

Jose Antonio L. Bautista

As I read the letter, this reminded me of the day that I wanted to surrender, the day which almost took away my dream in a near-instant. In just a matter of a few days after I started med, I started to have the deepest intention of quitting Medical School for the reason that I couldn't stand another day reading a book, much more something that was totally new to me. My mind back then wanted to continue going on, but my heart dictated that I should stop, that I should rest this one off for a long time. This was, for me, the biggest dilemma of mine in Medical School, much more, my studying career. Never in my life that I wanted to give up so easily in such a short time. My heart wanted to follow another track, the track which I originally started, which was Nursing. 

It was a classic case of burnout, academic burnout.

But as my parents' unwavering support for me grew, up to the point that they finally accepted that I can get a grade as low as 3.00, my heart started to become motivated again. My mind and heart cooperated with each other, determined to make a push towards the road less traveled. After the emotional talk with my parents, I discontinued my interest in quitting school. Despite not quitting, I made sure that I do not get to erase this letter, for this letter would serve me as a stern reminder of how I actually started and almost quit on Medicine.

Now, almost 2 years since I made this letter, I start to look back at what has happened in my life since the day I entered Med and almost quit because of burnout. A lot of things have happened and passed by but though there have been rough times, I have still kept the flame burning. The desire to become a doctor, a man with double professional degrees, a man with an RN, MD attached beside his surname, is almost near the corner. Next year, in 2012, our batch will become Junior Interns (JI), the last step into becoming a real-deal physician. The thought of quitting is now but a distant but significant memory in my life as a Med student: a memory that will remind me of the blunder that almost ruined my chances of achieving a childhood dream, a dream that everybody would want, but only very few can achieve.

Motorcycle and the city

Life can be seen like a Jack-in-the-box. One cranks the lever out of curiosity, until a clown pops out and surprises him/her. The thrill of surprises is a part of life, and it can either be enjoyable or forgetful, depending on the experience such surprise brings. In surprises, there are some that can be considered an adventure: a surprise that feeds on curiosity and returns back a once-in-a-blue-moon moment that is much more rewarding as it may seem.

Ever felt that all the necessities that you need are not at your disposal when it is most needed? Ever felt that you had to go to an urgent commitment and see that there is no transportation available for use? Ever felt that you don't want to spend cash just to commute? 

Well, here's one for the record books:

After I was online exchanging humorous blows with a great friend of mine and monitoring thesis updates, I prepared myself to go to the dentist. My dentist is quite far from where I live: it is situated in the heart of the Central Business District (CBD) of the country's premier business capital. After much preparation, I went out of the house, looking for a car which I can use to take myself to the dentist. Unfortunately for me, there was no available car in sight, except for a company van which I couldn't risk driving because of number-coding. The mere fact that there was no transportation available at my disposal irked me: I was about to be late for a dental appointment, one which I cannot afford to miss.

The thought of commuting ran into my mind. Though I am used to riding the jeepney and the taxi cab, I did not feel the need for commuting. Thrifty as I am (in a situation like this), I crossed out commuting as a solution to my transportation problem. I was running out of options, when all of a sudden, a radical idea barraged into my mind:

A decent motorcycle ride.

The thought of a motorcycle ride scared me at first. Riding a motorcycle has been a fear for people not used to taking such kind of transportation. In fact, this has been implicated in most traffic-related accidents, with more deaths than injuries on record. I know of people who had lost a part of their lives due to motorcycle accidents, most especially in areas where helmets are not a gold standard to wear (i.e. province). It was a risk for me to take, but risk-taking has been a part of my being spontaneous. I love surprises, and I love the thrill of adventure. Risking all the hazards that it may bring, I took on the challenge. Besides, it's only for just this once.

I went to my brother's office just a house away from home. I asked his secretary if I can borrow one of the company riders to take me to my dentist. Surprised as they were, I stood my ground, adamant on my decision to ride a motorcycle. I was informed of the risks, I took it in me, and replied that no one is to be blamed for any accident that may be incurred during the duration of the trip. Good thing a brave rider took my challenge: the guy was almost half my size, but he willingly accepted it and gave me a ride behind the motorcycle that he owns. 

Wearing a helmet on my head and the left earpiece of my iPod headset attached to my left ear, I hitched at the back of the motorcycle, taking a ride for the first time since my early childhood days. It was the first time for me, in such a very long time, to ride on the motorcycle, this time being a passenger taken around the busy streets of the CBD. It was a sunny Thursday, where all the people are about to return to their jobs from lunch, and where all the air pollution is rampant because of the thick congestion of cars and public utility vehicles jamming the streets and avenues of a bustling metropolis.

As the motorcycle started, my heart started to race. It was a thrill that I haven't felt since driving my Med friends to Laguna and back. When it started to move, the thrill intensified, and I was now moving along towards the busy streets on a 2-wheeled vehicle that posed a greater risk rather than a benefit, in terms of safety. When we made it past the simple roads, we then entered the jam-packed roads of the CBD. The breeze of polluted air and the heat of idle cars started to collide and were felt all over my body as the adventurous ride progressed. The rider zigzagged his motorcycle right past a bunch of cars, big and small. There was a time that during the overtaking moments, my shoulders would almost hit the corners of big cars. My heart would pound harder as the overtaking maneuvers were getting sharper, as the feeling of that was like I was about to fall off a motorcycle in almost fast speeds. We rolled over humps, a few ditches, and turned nearly-hard lefts and rights, but every dangerous action turned out safe in the end. It took me 10 minutes from home to make it into my dentist. After we alighted on the side of the road, I requested the rider to go back to the office and not wait for me, as I preferred commuting back home after my appointment with the dentist.

Riding a motorcycle is really scary when one rides on it for the first time. It takes a matter of getting used to it, usually after a couple of rides. The experience of riding on a motorcycle just to go to the dentist is a memory that I will never forget. To challenge my fears of riding such a vehicle along the country's busiest city is a once-in-a-lifetime event, for successive rides on it would bear no fear on me after this unique joyride. It may cause fear at first, but to ride it and experience the thrill of it is just so extraordinary, it'll make you become fearless afterwards. To feel the breeze all over your body is like immersing your body in front of a big fan, only thing is, there is a mixture of bad air from all the fumes that come out of other vehicles. In short, motorcycle rides is one of a number of highlights in urban living. It may be a drag, but in reality, it packs a smooth, yet, thrilling ride.

Try the motorcycle for one. It'll suck the fear right out of you, and replace it with bravery, and some bragging rights to slap on a hater's face from time to time.

You think going to the beach and hitting the blue waters is the only fun thing to do this summer? Well, think again.

The Tennis Camp experience, 6 years later

Playing a sport of your choice while at your prime is one of the most unforgettable moments that can be etched in one's personal memory. It is that unforgettable moment that signifies a personal achievement: one bragging right that can be flashed to others when one retires from a sport that is well-loved.

It has been 6 years since I last played tennis on a full-blast scale. The whole of my High School life revolved, not just around studies, but also around playing tennis, from the day back in 1st year where I started playing the game, until 4th year where I became a varsity player. Every summer, during HS days, I'd ask my parents to enroll me at summer camp, tennis summer camp that is. The whole of my summer is immersed into playing tennis: improving my personal game, playing junior age-group tourneys (and eventually lose), and meet new friends along the way. Those were the summer days back then which really molded me, not just a tennis enthusiast, but also as a person who uses tennis to build self-confidence and self-esteem as the game is improved, little by little.

Everything about tennis eventually stopped when I made it to college. The tight schedule, the irrevocable commitments in school, and the career path itself really took me away from playing the game that I love most. I was shunned away by college life from holding a tennis racket, hit tennis balls, and play my heart out. This went on for the whole duration of my college life. Only in Med school where my love for tennis was revived because of an annual sporting event in Med land: Palarong Med.

I came back to my HS Alma mater a while ago to join another summer tennis camp. It has been 6 years since I joined camp. Back then, I used to play with people who were just my age or just a few years older than me. By the time I returned to the courts that molded my love for the game, everything was so different. The environment was not ideal for my time and age. The people who I was playing with were kids and teenagers: the oldest teenager was just 6 years younger than me. Good thing, an old teammate of mine joined camp. But still, it was a big number of youngsters who dominated the group. Who would've thought that just because of an annual Med event, this would cause me to join summer camp which is specifically concocted for kids, and not just for young adults like me.

As I warmed-up before hitting tennis balls, I noticed that at first, my teenage-era, youthful energy came back at me. I sprinted and did laterals like I was just back in HS. As time went longer and as I started to play again, the youthful energy waned off, and I felt that I was losing my senses. I gasped for air like I have never gasped before. My vision started to narrow, and my body was starting to get heavy. Not only was I feeling the fatigue, my feet were starting to form blisters, just as I was wearing new tennis shoes bought for that occasion. Every time I was hitting tennis balls, the shots were flying in all directions. Though there were some shots that legitimately went in, most of the supposedly clean shots turned dirty. My forehand was rusty, my backhand was becoming less orthodox (I play with an orthodox single-handed backhand, unlike the modern two-fist backhand), my serves were going out of the service box or hitting the net, and my footing and leg bending was not proper. Though I had my share of these problems, only my net approaches and volley shots were still intact, all thanks to playing badminton during college and Med. All the trainers there said that I lacked practice, and I cannot deny it: I really lack practice. I have to admit, 6 years of not actively playing can cause severe rusting of a once-good playing style.

The worst thing that had happen to me during the 1st day of summer camp was that both my legs started to cramp. I couldn't sprint faster; I had to jog to prevent, as much as possible, my legs to go down on me. After 2 laps, my legs started to give away. Much worse, my left leg had the worst cramp. I had to call on a trainer to manage my severely cramping leg. I didn't go on sprinting after that. Instead, I just ended cool-down by doing a few stretches.

As we grow older, we only get to do, with ease, what is left of our youthful prime. Though I may still be young, long years of inactivity (except for occasional leisure games with Med teammates) can really take a toll on the playing style. I may feel that I am undergoing a state of readjustment. It will take some time to get back the old game. Nevertheless, the mere fact that joining summer camp again is just a good feeling. It's a good way to start summer to prepare for the upcoming Palarong Med a couple of months from now. 

The old High School Best Friend: the springboard for everything

Friendship is a thing that makes people feel important. This is what makes a rational human being feel alive. Having good friends to keep dictates how a person approaches life in so may different aspects. The experiences gained from such friendships tell a story on how he/she is molded into the person he/she is now.

This is the story of an unforgettable friendship with an old High School friend of mine. A great friend, a cool, funny person, and the big reason why everything in my life changed in just one stroke of an instance.

This is how a friendship rises and falls, just because of a regretful mistake.

Her name is Hazel (I do not wish to hide her name). She was my classmate back in Grade 4 and 2nd Year High School, and now currently in Medical School. Back in the day when we were in Grade School, we never get to notice each other that much. I barely even remember noticing her in class. Though there were some vivid memories of her in my mind of those days in particular, what I can absolutely recount is that she was just a grade school classmate. That was just the start of how I knew her.

Second year High School was the time I get to know her more. She was, in particular, a part of a small group of 3 who played tennis during PE hours. I, Joey, and Hazel were the 3 persons who joined the special PE group, apart from the usual PE classes conducted in school back then. Our common love for the sport of tennis was the key that bound our group closer. Back then, we would always play tennis either inside the covered shell courts, or the outdoor hard courts, either during PE days or after school hours. Playing tennis with each other was the source of each of our enjoyment. We simply had fun playing the game, and from the love of the game, a friendship blossomed. 

Summer of 2003 was, for me, the best summer back then. The two of us, excluding Joey, joined the CSA Summer Tennis Program, which consisted of varsity players and intermediate players wanting a taste of the tough side of the game. Everyday, we get to play tennis, have fun, share insights, and keep our heads up high with the big smile of happiness. Those were the times where the two of us started to get to know each other more, if not better. It was during those unforgettable times where we became best friends (for me, she was my best friend: my 1st girl best friend). Besides the fun of the sport, we started to hang out most of the time. There were those times when, after tennis sessions, while waiting for our drivers to pick us up, I'd usually wait for her to go home first than me, though there were times the opposite would happen. While we wait for someone to fetch us, we would tell stories, jokes and ideas which made our friendship one-of-a-kind. From those simple moments, we took those spare times to bask on a wonderful moment: a moment that was unforgettable for me, but maybe  forgettable for her. 

Away from the courts, we had our share of the good times. I remember those good old times such as watching a good movie at GB3, and going to Hard Rock Cafe watching Jimmy Bondoc perform live singing his own version of "Happy." There were times that we would hang out at G4, though that memory of mine is only etched in 2 small pictures, that of which includes her cousin, and that of our tennis group (where I was the only guy in the mix), which I have kept up until now. Every time I get to see it, it reminds me of the old times that were just epic. Our usual conversations never ended through verbal communication. The power of text messaging and the land line helped us be in constant communication with each other. Our conversations back then would never cease to end. Even during the early part of 3rd year, we would keep ourselves in constant contact, though becoming transient was already starting to loom in our friendship. That friendship even influenced my decisions in joining activities in school: I even joined the C.O.C.C. because of her; we wanted to become CAT/ACP officers back then. In essence, those were the best times that I had spent with her, as far as my memory is concerned.

Her company was the thing that made me feel happy, special, and unique. Her bubbly personality, liveliness, and positive outlook in life was the one that kept that spark of joy lighting up deep inside me. I was not romantically inclined to her, I wish to stress that. I just find her mere presence a powerful healing salve to those unhealed wounds of my past. 

I always thought back then that our wonderful friendship will last forever. That belief is a philosophy only seen in movies and soap operas. The succeeding story became the reason for everything that has happened up until this present time. This is the part where I share my part of the story, from my own experience, shown to the world for everyone to see. This is the part where the reader starts to balance from what they have heard from her, to what they will read in this blog.

It was during the varsity tryouts when this pivotal moment in our friendship started to happen. It was during such time that I was talking to a teammate of hers, who was also trying out for the team. That teammate of hers and I talked about a lot of stuff about tennis, even up to the point that I said something that was to be the most regretful, bullsh*t thing that I have ever done to destroy a friendship. I told that teammate of hers my opinion on her game. I counted various strengths and weak points, stated as a neutral opinion. I never intended to quash my best friend's style of play back then. I was trying to become neutral, as far as her upcoming game was concerned. What I forgot to keep in mind was that the person I was talking to was my best friend's upcoming opponent during the tryouts. That is what I can remember. I have nothing else more to say about it.

After that unfortunate incident, word reached her that I said something bad about her game. A violent reaction started to form. I was told by her that she was told of my indiscretion of her game. I never intended to quash her style of play. In fact, the argument that started to loom in did not actually involve my trampling of her personality whatsoever. It was an argument about a tennis game. It was a hot head steaming with anger against a repentant person defending himself from harm. I thought of the incident as a misunderstanding. It just had to turn much more sour in the days to come.

I soon realized then that her anger towards me was not just about the game: it was about the friendship in particular. The argument became a clash of principle against issue. There was a breach of trust: a very fundamental pillar in the stability of friendship. I ruined her trust; I ruined our friendship; It was as simple as that. I did so many ways just to earn our friendship back, but even after we shook hands, a Saturday after my last C.O.C.C. traning (I left training for good because of that debacle), her outlook towards me never became the same again. It was the most painful moment in my life back then. It was the first time that I lost a friend, much worse, in a very bad way.

I can never, ever forget the most famous line that has left a deep scar in my outlook of her: "Forgiven, not forgotten." This has been a line that I have used in a few blogs of mine in the past up until the present. She texted me this line as a reply after a botched reconciliation attempt through a quote sent through a text message. That was the very last word that was said to me by her. That was the very last time we have ever talked. It marked the end of a very great friendship. 

That point in time was the most devastating point of my teenage life, much more devastating than my break-up with my 1st GF. That moment in my life became the turning point in my current approach of friends. That incident has taught me a very valuable lesson in the pillars of friendship: never to break the trust of others through unwanted actions. That incident molded my personality into who I am at present: a person who others can see and describe as to who I am now, and not that of the past.

There are so many valuable lessons learned through this incident of mine, and I would like to count off these things:

1. Never, ever say anything bad about someone, most likely your best friend.

2. Keep neutral thoughts to yourself. Neutrality is a two-faced coin that can heal or hurt two sides of the spectrum.

3. Cherish each and every moment with friends as much as possible. Never leave any single moment to waste. Keep in mind that the best of times outside the home are best spent with the best of friends.

4. When arguing, always keep in mind to listen to both sides of the story. Never keep yourself into a story and live with it: it blocks the other side a chance to explain, and a chance to weigh the options precisely.

5. Do not let emotion corrupt rational thinking. These two should be balanced in order to arrive at a very wise decision when problems arise.

6. Always keep vigilant about the people around you. They may be saying something which is detrimental to your favor. If such thing occurs, either confront it or leave it alone, depending on how you view the opposite person involved.

Personally, I want to thank her for a very, one-of-a-kind time back in High School. It is so ironic that after so many years of not talking to each other, we'd still be classmates in Med school. Up until now, I still want to make amends with her, but it seems that her reluctance to talk about it has prevented me from making such things come into reality. I don't expect any reconciliation, much more never. A lot of people, not only in Med school, but also those back in HS, have said that we should reconcile for good. I guess it will never happen, and I have already accepted that fact.

I don't care if any of her friends in Med get to read this and show this to her. I don't mind if her remarks about this will likely quash any attempt at reconciliation. I don't give a bird's sh*t if she thinks that I'm getting all emo up in this joint and blog my feelings away (Sira na nga naman ako sa kaniya, ano pa ba pwedeng masira pa?). Blogs are the avenues of communication: it's like a journal of sorts that speaks of the ideas of the mind. This is my side of being truthful, honest, and transparent. I have to be honest, I have not moved on from that unfortunate incident. That part of my life has almost dictated how I currently approach my friends. I hope through this blog, all of that burden has been cast aside, and that I can now move on with my life the way it should be.

This is a blog, almost 8 years in the making. Almost 8 years since that friendship went into a disaster. I have nothing else to say about her. I just want to say I have nothing against her, ever. It's now a matter of acceptance that reconciliation is highly unlikely. This is a blog that is intended to let the world know of how I lost a very wonderful friendship, and how I learned from that biggest mistake of my teenage life.

I mean what I say and I say what I mean. There is no sugarcoating in this blog. This is what I want to tell: that side of my story that has been kept within myself for almost a decade, not until now.

Take that for truthfulness and transparency.

Blogging: the Rosetta Stone of the mind

There are so many avenues of expressing one's emotion. So many roads to take, so many turns to make, and so many detours to consider. It is in man's discretion on how his expressions will take flight. There are many methods to consider, it just depends on man's preference. He may either write his ideas on a book or a journal, compose editorials in a newspaper, video himself, record and capture important moments that are best seen on camera, or maybe declaim inside thoughts through public speaking. Depending on man's personality, through expression of personal feelings, ideas start to form and be cultivated into words that are either substantial or just plain nonsense. It is on the part of the receiving end on how to interpret such creativity that an expressing person tries to arrive at. 

Blogging has been a vital avenue for the expression of my thoughts, ideas, and feelings. From 2nd year College up until this present time, all of the fragments of my mind's creation have been expressed through the form of this online journal. For one, I try my best not to keep my thoughts private. Though I have the liberty to keep it privy from the sight of others, I keep it in mind that though I may be more of an introverted person (though my personality speaks otherwise), the real thought of a knowledgeable person, I believe, is best stored in forms that everybody can see. Why keep your thoughts to yourself? This is one question that has been a guiding principle of mine whenever I make blogs. Making a blog is like a wide, 5-lane avenue of expression: there is a lot of room for each and every car of ideas and trains of thought to pass through. It is a long, unwinding road that has a beginning, but has no end. Until the mind keeps running, the blogs keep on going. Making such blogs for me are the pathways of conveying ideas that are usually not heard from me by my friends and haters alike. Blogging is the Rosetta Stone that has been the key to unlock the hieroglyphics of my mind. Blogging has been  God's answer to my problems of introversion.

I couldn't keep track on how many blogs I have made and posted. I have 2 Multiply pages that have been the foundations of my ideas. Back then, when Friendster was still the King of Social Networking, I used to post blogs there, and from there I started to build a stepping stone as to where my ideas will now be etched. As Friendster was going on the downside, I moved my first few blogs there to my 1st Multiply account. From there, all my thoughts, ideas, feelings, and opinions have been broadcasted through there. From college life to the usual feelings of a boy falling in love, posting blogs in Multiply has been the place where I keep track of all the memories of my past. Posting there kept on going until I made it to Med school, where eventually I moved blogging into Blogger.com in the hopes that the vast majority can see more of what is being expressed from the clutter of the mind. 

The methods of my blogging have been broad. Different styles have been applied during the long course of time. I have delivered opinions of current issues, critiqued people, admonished maligned ideas, lauded inspiring kick-ass individuals and groups, and made poetry from imagination. Majority of the thoughts that were expressed through blogging have been the products of what I am thinking and wishing to express. I have to admit, there were blogs that had caused a stir for some, and have caused me to earn my own set of haters because they couldn't accept what my ideas speak of them. Others have found my blogs (not raising my own chair, just basing it on comments) interesting to read because of things that they have never heard from me. Blogging is an avenue that speaks of what a person truly is behind the smiles and actions. This method has shown the reader who I really am, what I really think of, and how I really fare in a world that is filled with so many things that are either worth believing or just too good to believe. 

Taking this road of communication and creativity entails good writing skills and vocabulary knowledge. I may neither be a good writer nor a vocabulary guru, but through blogs, these characteristics are slowly molded and formed into baselines that are the starting points for good communication skills. One may have a hard time talking to others through the verbal route. But through making blogs, one is already being unconsciously practiced in the art of communicating.  Through this method, one can review how he/she has fared in making expressions of thought, and may make revisions or corrections and use these as benchmarks for good communication skills. This has been proven well based on how other people see it. Writers have been great communicators because they use the avenue of writing to express their thoughts, and whenever they speak in public conventions or in press conferences or in book fairs, they are heard by people to be very intelligible and well-versed with the art of the language. Through writing, as also seen in blogging, fine skills such at the use of wit and humor are trained and chiseled until these unique skills become sharp enough to pierce right through anything, even the most insensitive of readers.

There are really so many ways of expressing one's thoughts and ideas. You, the reader, have all the cards and all the tricks necessary to express such great ideas, as well. It is how one uses and plays these cards will he/she be able to make the most creative of expressions. Through the style of blogging, one can use the power of the internet to grab hold of the thoughts of others and express one's ideas and share these with them. Through this will man gain his own set of haters and lovers. It just depends on the writing style on how a writer will gain the power to attract, move, and inspire the reader. 

Be the creative person that you can be. Unleash that hidden potential. The world is already aching to know the other side of you. 

Use blogging as a Rosetta Stone: a key that can unlock the myriad of wonders of your subconscious and unconscious.